Groundhog Day
by tigersbride
Summary: Peter's actions don't line up with fate. T for language. P/O.
1. Chapter 1

**Groundhog Day**

The morning was bright, and the sun flew in through the windows of the small house in Boston inhabited by one man and his father. The rays of light touched the eyes of this man as they rose higher still. Peter Bishop stirred from his sleep and gradually opened his eyes, allowing them to accustom to the light. It was not long before a smell of pancakes reached his nostrils, and he grinned to himself despite his morning grogginess. Walter must already have been up and cooking. He should probably get up, he thought to himself, but why waste the lie in? It was getting rare these days. No sooner had he made his lazy decision than he heard the knock on the front door. Only one person would call at their house at this time, (unless the mailman had a package), and it made him smile more to think she had turned up already. He waited until he heard the familiarly sweet voice before he pulled back the covers and rummaged around in his wardrobe for a clean shirt and jeans.

He had just started to pull a brown polo over his head when he froze, noting the worry and pleas in his father's whispers. His mind raced uncertainly, realising they must be speaking about whatever big secret has been making them both awkward. Peter stopped, desperately wondering whether to listen in and satisfy his curiosity or to respect their privacy. While he was deciding he couldn't help but catch glimpses of their conversation:

"I can't..." Walter pleaded

"... have to... I didn't... has to be you" Olivia retorted.

"...lose him _again_"

"Well I didn't take him!" Olivia's uncontrolled voice hissed slightly too loud; Peter was able to hear that sentence easily.

Peter stopped moving, stopped breathing, and stopped thinking rationally. His mind started to buzz irrationally as he comprehended what was going on. First his mother's death had been a lie, and now this... It took him only a second to realise that the two voices had stopped, obviously in horror at Olivia's outburst. He jumped straight back into bed when he considered it wouldn't be long before they checked he wasn't awake. But he wasn't quick enough. Walter came in and the two men looked at each other, one in fear, and one in terror.

"I understand everything now" Peter declared slowly, but surely. "I'm not from here, am I?"

Walter closed his eyes and sighed. Peter jumped up, tugging on the jeans he was attempting to put on just minutes before. Olivia entered slowly so as not to provoke a reaction. Peter was shocked to see a couple of her fingers resting on her gun as he regarded her angrily.

"You knew. You knew for weeks didn't you!?" he yelled, and again felt some surprise as he noticed the welling tears in her eyes. She nodded in silence. Peter looked from her to Walter and back again. The older man had already started to cry.

"Walter" Olivia addressed him. "Go into the kitchen, I'll sort this out"

Her fingers were still firmly touching her pistol, Peter noticed as he glared at her. They never broke eye contact. Walter left, trembling.

"Peter" she began once they were alone. "I'm sorry, but he had to tell you, it had to be him... it's not my place"

"I'd have told you!" Peter snapped

"Would you?" she hissed "Would you have been happy to lose me if I'd found out and taken it angrily... if I had a history for running away? Would you have been alright with breaking my heart when I found out that things weren't as they seemed?"

"My life is a lie, Olivia, and you knew that" he whispered, resigned. But a part of him knew that she was right.

"It's not all a lie" she whispered back, approaching him.

He broke the eye contact at this point, making her stop still. He didn't want her anywhere near him right now, he just needed some time to think, to run, and as much as he hated to admit his cowardice, he knew that it was the only option he'd feel comfortable with.

"I have to go, just for a bit. I need some time to think, okay?" he said as he turned back toward her. Fear filled her eyes but she had no choice but to nod. He watched her swallow back her terror, before striding past her and down the stairs. He knocked a vase next at the bottom of the staircase over as he left, and bitterly associated it with his own life, cracked and broken when it was fine just moments before. He went out through the door.

Peter Bishop reached the airport by bus, having grabbed his black pea coat on the way out. Being like he was, he'd almost expected something like this to happen one day, and he'd prepared himself a getaway for if it did. In the inside pocket of his zip was a fake passport, with the name Jacob Knight next to his photograph. The pocket also contained enough money to travel far away, and a few other small essentials.

"Can I help you, Sir?" asked the smiling receptionist. She was pretty, Peter noted, but falsely. Her bleach blonde hair curled perfectly down her shoulders and back, sprayed definitely into place. Her foundation was thick and her bronzer lay pretentiously on top of it, while bright blue eye-shadow complemented her bright blue eyes.

"Hi," he grinned back. Lying was always easier if flirting was an option. "I'm hoping to find a flight to Iraq for this afternoon?"

She fluttered her eyelids and nodded slowly, before tapping away on a computer keyboard to her right.

"Check in opens for the next one in 30 minutes?" she offered. "Would that do for you?"

"Certainly" he handed over his passport and held out some money. She checked the passport briefly, missing the signs of fraud, and took some of the money, handing him the rest and whatever change he received out of it.

Peter sat down on a secluded bench, hoping not to recognise anyone he saw. He had purposefully gone to a further airport than was necessary, and had chosen Iraq as he hoped it was somewhere Olivia was unlikely to look. It was too obvious a choice for him. He may not even need to stay somewhere quiet. He knew her well enough to know that she'd complicate her guesses, and miss the real place he went.

His heart ached slightly for his lost life, as he finally had a moment with nothing else to focus on but the time. Anger and remorse bubbled simultaneously from the pit of his stomach and he swallowed it back down, livid. He'd miss Boston. He'd miss Walter, and he'd definitely miss Olivia. But how could they expect him to stay after hurting him so badly? Olivia had known how he felt about her long before she found out; it was cruel for her to have left him in the dark. He'd half expected it from his mad father, but it still hurt.

"Flight 652 Boston to Iraq, check in opening in 5 minutes" declared a bored woman over the PA system. This was his flight, he discovered as he checked his ticket. Hastily he joined the queue.

A while later, Peter was browsing through duty free sorrowfully, bitterly glaring at any alcohol he had enjoyed with Olivia on the occasions they'd been out for drinks together. He smirked to himself as he stocked up, knowing this would cost more than he'd have earned in a day with Fringe Division. It'd keep him going during the lonely nights before bed time. If he ever got a bed, he realised.

The plane landed as scheduled, and Peter made his way out of the airport, stopping a cab on the way. He directed it back to where he was when Olivia first came to see him, hoping that he could win back the favour of some of the people he used to know around the area. The day went worse than he had hoped, being unable to track down anyone familiar. That night he booked a motel, and decided to begin his duty free binge, spilling a little down his front as he gulped. It took the whole bottle of whiskey, but an incredibly drunk Peter Bishop fell into a deep sleep, worry free.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning was bright, and the sun flew in through the windows of the small house in Boston inhabited by one man and his father. The rays of light touched the eyes of this man as they rose higher still. Peter Bishop stirred from his sleep and gradually opened his eyes, allowing them to accustom to the light. A familiar smell of pancakes alerted him to the presence of someone else, and this caused Peter to panic. As he looked around, his heart rate quickened and he leapt out of his bed, grabbing a robe and pounding down the stairs.

"WALTER!" he yelled in anger, unsure how he'd been returned to his personal hell. "What the hell have you done?"

"Son!" Walter looked confused "What do you mean? It's morning, so I'm cooking!"

"You've brought me back here." Peter responded, furious with his father. "I left to get away, and you BROUGHT ME BACK!"

A knock on the door made Peter spin round. He ripped it open to find Olivia standing there looking bemused.

"It was you, wasn't it" he demanded.

Olivia's expression changed from amusement to confusion as she took in the statement. She looked from him to Walter, who too was joining in her bewilderment.

"What have I done?" she asked him, slowly approaching him with an outstretched hand.

"You brought me back here Olivia! After everything that happened yesterday... Why won't you just let me leave?" he asked her, almost begging.

"Brought you back?" she queried. "Peter... you haven't been anywhere except Boston"

"What?" he asked. "Don't give me that shit Liv, I know you're just trying to make me think it never happened, but I've had enough of your lies. First yesterday, and now this! I don't know how I ever thought I could trust you. Why are you doing this to me?"

At this Peter stormed upstairs to his bedroom, and checked the wardrobe, intending to get dressed and leave again. He ignored the faint déjà vu he felt. They'd even replaced the clothing he'd worn yesterday. God, he noticed, they'd even washed it. There were no beer stains on this shirt any more, no trace he'd even worn it. That was just low. Their attempt at concealing yesterday's events was thorough; he had to give them that. He chose differently, selecting a blue checked shirt that went with his eyes. He thought bitterly of the pretty receptionist in the airport. She had probably told the nice cops where the attractive guy with the fake passport was going. That or Olivia would have pointed a gun at her head and she'd have squealed in horror.

Olivia tentatively entered the room, sliding inside in almost silence.

"Peter..." she began, and for a moment he thought she'd been crying, but that was probably because he wasn't falling for their trick. "Peter you've really upset Walter"

"Oh yeah? Don't you think he's upset me just a little bit more?"

"Peter, stop this. I don't know what you're talking about and neither does he. I'm not lying to you"

Today Peter had enough time to bundle some clothes into a bag. He slung it over her shoulder.

"Goodbye, Olivia. This time, please, don't come looking? For me?" he stated and bounded down the stairs. He had to praise their thoroughness, their deception was flawless; they'd even replaced the vase he smashed yesterday in his hurry. Plus Olivia and Walter's acting was perfect today. He grasped into the cupboard for the same pea coat he'd plucked out the day before, and stepped out onto the street. This was his one proof that yesterday happened. No one knew about the pocket in his coat.

He unzipped the pouch and felt inside. His heart lurched. Everything was there still. No money had been spent. Perhaps they knew about it, he considered. He batted the thought away as soon as it came. No one knew. That he was sure of, even if he wasn't sure of anything else. But how did they replace the money?

"Peter please come back" Olivia had joined him and her hand was slightly tugging on his arm. He stood stunned, stock still. What if yesterday hadn't happened... if it _had_ been a dream? There was only one way he could be sure.

"Olivia, I'm from the other universe, aren't I?" he asked determinedly, studying her facial expression to a fault. Her look went from pleas, to horror, to confusion, and settled back on terror.

"Peter... how... what? I'm... I'm so sorry..." she stuttered. Something about her genuine expression told Peter she really was surprised, unaware she knew.

"You don't remember yesterday... do you?" he asked his next question.

"I did nothing wrong yesterday did I?" her confusion started to peak.

"No... not in your yesterday." He comprehended. "Unless... Olivia, did you know about my fake passport? In my coat pocket?"

"You have a getaway plan?" her eyes showed anger but also a hint of sadness. "Why, are you thinking of leaving?"

"Something weird is going on, Liv" he declared. "I'll be back later, honest. I just need to speak to someone..."

At this he bounded off down the road, and hailed a taxi around the corner of the block.

"Massive Dynamic, please" he asked. He didn't want to speak to Walter while he was still so angry, and still so untrusting of him.

Upon arrival at the company he noticed Nina Sharp crossing the lobby.

"Nina!" he called

"Peter" she greeted him when they met.

"Nina... something weird's going on. I don't know if you can help, but I lived this day yesterday..." he started.

"Like the movie?" she asked, her expression amused.

"The movie?" he questioned.

"Groundhog day... you know, where Bill Murray lives the same day over and over?" she chuckled. "Funny, Bishop"

Nina sent him a smile but carried on walking. Peter stopped, suddenly sure he was just going crazy. He decided to walk back across the city to his home, deciding he might be better off with the exercise. He might even clear his head of these stupid ideas.

He was right, the walk was relaxing. As he made his way back, he took a seat in a park. He must have been sat there for hours, because as he released himself from his thoughts, he noted the darkening sky. Perhaps now was the time to call a cab.

When he eventually got back, Olivia was still waiting. She looked up from the couch as he entered, and quickly was in front of him. She opened her mouth to speak, but evidently couldn't think of the words to say. Instead, she smiled sadly, and put a hand on his arm. Peter pulled her into a hug. He knew she was still partly to blame for this, but he needed her on his good side if he was going to work this out. When he didn't let her leave the embrace when it passed the 'friends hugging' stage and made its way to the directional fork; something more or awkwardness, Peter felt Olivia nestle her head into his shoulder, and she clutched him slightly closer.

By the hand he took her and led her upstairs, entirely innocently. They lay together on his bed until they fell asleep. His arm around her neck.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning was bright, and the sun flew in through the windows of the small house in Boston inhabited by one man and his father. The rays of light touched the eyes of this man as they rose higher still. Peter Bishop stirred from his sleep and gradually opened his eyes, allowing them to accustom to the light. Again! Peter sighed as he looked around the room, letting the pancake waft tickle his nose. Maybe this time he should stay quiet, enjoy the day, pretend nothing had happened. At least it wouldn't be so much of a shock when they finally decided to come clean. He stayed in bed, waiting for Olivia's arrival and their argument. When it was over, Walter came to check on him as he had on the first day, but this time his pretence was flawless. Walter left the room smiling.

"He's still asleep" he muttered to Olivia, who let out a sigh of relief.

"I'd better wake him anyway" she declared.

Olivia slipped into the room quietly, and approached the bed. She knelt down by the bed and whispered his name.

"Peter?"

He grumbled and rolled over as he pretended to awake. Peter flicked his eyes open, and smiled as his gaze connected with hers. She returned his smile.

"Hey" he greeted. He realised he never knew why she'd come over in the first place "We have a case do we?"

"No..." she grinned. "It's Astrid's birthday... remember?"

"Astrid's birthday... I forgot..."

"Yeah I'm going to need your support. Walter will be happy chatting to Astrid's friends and scaring them, but I don't have that confidence and they're all a lot younger. Plus you're my friend already" she said with a wink.

He grinned up at her, despite the heavy feeling in his heart that she still hadn't told him. He still couldn't shake the resentment that knowing she was lying to him caused. But he couldn't leave. Maybe he'd try again if he had today again tomorrow. She offered him a hand. Peter took it, allowing his rough hand to be pulled by the soft one he clutched. He used a lot of his back muscle so as not to pull her on top of him, as much as he might want to. He approached the wardrobe for the third time and grabbed a smart black and white checked shirt. Olivia leaned against the wall, watching as he pulled it on.

"What?" he said as he noticed her smiling slightly, privately. She grinned more heavily.

"Nothing"

He raised an eyebrow but didn't pursue the subject, pulling on some dark grey jeans. Together they went down to the kitchen and pulled up dining chairs as Walter served up the pancakes. The three of them chatted for a while until Walter went to put on his suit, leaving Peter alone with Olivia.

"So remind me why I'm coming to Astrid's party?" Peter joked

"Well, not only are you Astrid's friend, you're there to keep me company, because I won't have anyone else to talk to." Olivia revealed.

"So it's just me and you, all day?" he chuckled "God, this is going to be dull..."

She nudged him in the ribs playfully and feigned a hurt expression. "Shut it" she muttered as Walter came back in.

"Very nice" Peter complimented as Walter practically twirled to show off his attire. The older man beamed back at his son.

"We better go" Olivia stated, checking the time.

Peter reached her car first, climbing into the passenger's seat and watching carefully as Walter clambered into the back. Olivia buckled herself up and they began the journey, speaking for brief durations about the directions or the weather, until Walter decided he'd like to play 'I Spy'.

Upon their arrival at a local hall, Astrid greeted them all with hugs.

"Glad you could come, guys" she grinned. "I'd introduce you to everyone, but I'll let you mingle, you'd never remember all the names!"

Olivia and Peter grinned at her, and weren't surprised when Walter started speaking to a young man about how the specific vibrations of the music might make interesting results if applied to a drugged spider attempting to build a web.

"Yeah, looks like it's just you and me, Dunham" Peter rolled his eyes in a playful manner. "Grab us a table, I'll get drinks"

"Okay" Olivia agreed. "I'll just have a soda"

"Got it" Peter made his way to the bar, and returned a few minutes later to a nearby table with two drinks. He sat one down in front of her.

"I can't help wondering what Newton's planning next" Olivia sighed.

"Liv, can we forget about work, just for one day?" he smiled at her, pleading. "Show me some more card counting, or something else I don't know about you"

"There's not much that's interesting" she admitted. "Show me some magic"

He proceeded to trick her endlessly with coins and cards, refusing to reveal how he performed the act. He did this on purpose, knowing how much she hated being unaware of things. It left her unsatisfied. They had got through a fair few drinks by this point, and everyone including Walter had moved onto the alcoholic beverages.

"Let's do something else, I can't bear being teased by something I don't understand" Olivia begged.

"How about we dance?" he offered a hand as a slow classic came on.

"Dance? Peter, you know how co-ordinated I am..."

"Yep, no excuse" he declared, determined. With a raised eyebrow she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, and began leading her in a dance.

"When did you learn this?" she asked him

"As if I remember" he chuckled, spinning her away from him. As he pulled her back in he bent over her slightly, and for a split second held her there, leaning back in his arms. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips hungrily. Hers traced the same path on his face. Peter started to pull her closer to him, merrily unaware of anyone else's presence, and hoping he could begin what they nearly had done in Jacksonville. Again it was Olivia who broke the spell. She looked away desperately, and straightened her back.

"I have to talk to Walter" she excused herself, leaving him standing there. He returned to the table and sat there in fury. She wouldn't do anything with him unless she knew he knew, and there was no easy explanation for that.

Olivia returned only moments later, fear in her eyes.

"Can we talk?" she asked "Outside?"

He nodded and followed her out through the door.

"Peter" she began. "I don't know quite how to say this so I'm going to just say it."

"Ok" he agreed.

"When you were young, you got ill, as Walter keeps telling you. He tried so hard to make a cure, but failed. Instead, he then built a window to the other side, and watched Walternate, as he called him, trying to do the same. Walternate succeeded, but he missed. So Walter made the antidote and crossed to the other side to cure Walternate's son, but he broke it as he travelled through. He brought Walternate's son back here to cure him"

"And you're telling me this because?" Peter sighed, he had to try to make this believable.

"Peter. Please don't hate him, or hate me for this. Please understand why..." she looked upset. "The thing is. Walter's son had died. You're not from this side, Peter. Not originally at least..."

It was too much to feign the shock again, but the anger boiled naturally. He sat in silence for a few minutes until he was certain enough that he was in control.

"Ok" he said simply. He still very much wanted to run, but what was the point if he was just going to end up back here again tomorrow, the day after, the day after that?

"Ok?" she probed "That's it? Ok?"

"Yeah, Liv." He sighed, head slumped toward the floor.

Sympathetically, Olivia draped an arm around her friend's back and partially nestled into him.

"I thought you might run" she admitted.

"What would be the point?" he asked himself more than anything. He leant his head toward hers. Maybe he could still make something of today. Returning the half-hug, he kissed her forehead and leant against it with his own, looking into her eyes. She smiled sadly, but she was worried and he could read that in her. She knew how volatile he was, he was a fuse on a bomb, waiting to blow. It'd be a shoe bomb to the FBI, but an atom bomb to her heart. She clutched onto him whilst he was still here, and was still adamant he wasn't leaving.

Later that night the three left the party and got a cab back to the Bishop's house.

"Will you stay?" Peter had invited Olivia.

"Sure" she had agreed

As they entered Peter couldn't help but note the worried glances between his father and his friend. This annoyed him. They still thought he was going to bolt. He couldn't exactly blame them, but he did wish they had more faith in his word.

"Bedtime I think" Walter declared, and hurriedly made a beeline for the comfort of his own room.

"I'll take the couch" he mumbled quietly. He hadn't spoken much since Olivia had told him the story of what happened. To his surprise, she shook her head.

"I'd rather not be alone tonight, if you don't mind?" she asked in returned hushed tones.

He thought perhaps she just wanted to be close so she could tell if he tried to leave, but he nodded and followed her upstairs, where she pulled off her shirt and trousers, leaving her in a t-shirt and her underwear. He half-smiled despite himself. He was angry at himself for being angry at them. If the story Olivia had told him was true it wasn't half as bad as he had expected. It wasn't an act of selfishness, rather the opposite. It was his mother that had wanted to keep him.

They lay down on their separate sides of the bed, but he could feel Olivia almost whimpering, so he moved a bit closer. She followed suit and the sides of their bodies were touching, so he wrapped an arm around her neck and she let her head lie on his shoulder. He thought perhaps he should try and keep awake and see if that would stop him repeating this day again. It would be difficult though, he was already fighting back slumber. Olivia's breathing had slowed and Peter knew she was asleep.

He gradually watched until the clock struck 11.59pm. If he made it another minute here then perhaps things would move as they should. Almost simultaneously, his body clenched in pain, as if it was under immense pressure. Olivia woke and looked at him concerned, leaning over him to stare in his agonised eyes. He felt like he was being sucked through something. Suddenly, he realised he was alone. Sighing, he resigned and let the darkness take him.


End file.
